We Won't Forget
by Leia
Summary: [Complete] Mirai timeline. Young Trunks questions Gohan about the gravestones in his yard. Unwillingly, Gohan is caught up in a torrent of painful memories, bringing Trunks along with him.


Disclaimer: I do not own any part of DB/Z/GT. I am now undergoing serious therapy to combat my immense disappointment. 

**We Won't Forget **

A gentle breeze blew through the field, waving the grass and flowers and ruffling the hair of a boy who sat in front of eight stone blocks. Tears fell from his black eyes as Son Gohan knelt by the graves, watering the flowers he had planted there two years before. 

He went from grave to grave, tending the bushes and plants reverently, as though they were at a sacred shrine. As he moved, Gohan silently mouthed the names of those engraved on the stones. _Goku__. __Vegeta__. __Kuririn__. __Yamucha__. __Tenshinhan__. __Chaozu__. __Muten__ Rôshi. _The last was carved in a child's hand. _Piccolo, my best friend. I'll miss you forever. _

Gohan bit his lip, struggling to hold back a fresh onslaught of tears as he ran his fingers over the cold, hard stone. He remembered the day he had made the headstone, carried Piccolo's body to the site and buried him, refusing assistance from anyone . . . 

_"Piccolo-san!" the small boy pleaded as he flew through the sky, searching for any signs of his master and friend. "Where are you? You said I could fight with you! You promised!" _

_The night before, the Nameksejin had told Gohan he was going to fight the androids the next morning, and had smiled bitterly when Gohan asked to come. After half an hour of pleading, Piccolo had consented to let Gohan join him. _

_Gohan__ wiped his eyes. When he'd woken up, Piccolo was gone, and his energy all but disappeared . . . it had taken the entire day to narrow down his location to this city. _

_At last, movement caught Gohan's eye, and he glanced down. What he saw caused the boy to gasp, both in relief and in terror. Piccolo was stumbling through the streets, too weary to regenerate or even to fly. Gohan flew straight down to the ground. "Piccolo-san!" he screamed. _

_The green-skinned Nameksejin looked at him without recognition, his eyes glazed over. One arm dangled uselessly at his side, and there was a hole in his chest from when an android had punched a fist straight through him. He smiled when he finally made the connection who Gohan was. "Go..han ..." purple blood leaked from his mouth as he spoke. _

_Gohan__ shook his head. "Don't try to talk, sir. Save your strength. I need to find you a doctor." _

_"Don't ... bother," Picccolo gasped, coughing up more blood and holding his functional arm over the hole in his chest. Gohan tore his shirt into strips and tied them around the wound, trying desperately to stanch the constant flow of the life-giving fluid. _

_Piccolo sank to his knees, unable to stand any longer, and Gohan crouched by his side, supporting him as best he could. "I'm glad you're ... here," Piccolo declared hoarsely. "I didn't ... want ... to die .. with..out ... you ... with me ..." _

_"No! You can't die!" Gohan begged. "You can't leave me like this." _

_"You're ... strong," Piccolo argued, voice rasping, a slight gurgling noise coming from the back of his throat. "You must ... live ... to fight ..." _

_Gohan's__ voice was shaky. "But I'll die if you leave me! You're the only friend I've got . . . please, Piccolo-san, just wait until I can find you a doctor." _

_"I'll never ... leave ... you," Piccolo's energy was weakening. He struggled to raise a blood-stained hand, pressed it to Gohan's heart: "I'll ... always ... be here," then he touched Gohan's forehead, "And ... here ... I'll fight ... with you ... every ... bat..tle ... you face ... I will help ... you ..." _

_The tears spilled from Gohan's eyes like a waterfall, landing on Piccolo's face. Piccolo closed his eyes and smiled faintly. "Re..member me ... Go..han ... you'll always ... be ... in ... my heart ..." _

_Gohan__ cradled Piccolo's head in his arms, holding him to his chest and sobbing. "I'll never forget you, Piccolo-san. You're my best friend and my second Daddy . . . I'll fight for you, I promise." _

_"My ... one ... true ... friend ..." Piccolo was speaking barely above a whisper now. "Thank you ... I'll stay ... with ... you ... al..w..ay..s ..." _

_Gohan__ felt the last of his friend's life force slip away, and he held the lifeless body for over an hour, weeping until he was sure his heart had broken. _

Gohan squeezed his eyes tightly shut as the pain and horror of that day replayed over and over in his mind, and he struggled to keep his composure, to refrain from transforming into Super Sayajin. He could feel the power now, waiting for him to harness it -- 

"Gohan-san? Are you sad?" 

Gohan whirled around, saw the small boy standing in the grass, looking at him with wide blue eyes. Gohan rubbed his face with his sleeve. "Hi, Trunks. Yeah, I guess I'm a little sad." 

"Why?" three-year-old Trunks Briefs, the son of Bulma and Vegeta, cocked his head to one side inquisitively. "Did you hurt yourself on those rocks?" 

"No, no," Gohan smiled in spite of his pain. "They're graves." 

"What's a grave?" Trunks came over and sat in Gohan's lap. 

Gohan swallowed hard. "It's a place you put people after they die." 

Trunks glanced up at him, his lavender hair tickling Gohan's chin. "What's die mean?" 

"Uh," Gohan hesitated. Three years was awfully young to learn about death . . . "Well, it's like sleeping, but the person never wakes up. They're dead." 

Trunks frowned. "I don't like that. So you can't talk to them anymore?" when Gohan nodded, Trunks leaned his head against Gohan's chest. "That's why you were sad. Is all these stones a different dead person?" 

"Yes," Gohan extended a hand, resting it on top of one of the markers. "There's where my Daddy is sleeping." 

"What was your Papa like?" 

Gohan blinked back tears, not wanting to remember. "My Daddy was . . . was the strongest fighter in the world. Nobody could beat him. He was really tall -- you'd only be as high as his knees, Trunks -- and he could do anything. He looked like this," Gohan messed up his hair, styling it so it stuck out in spikes in all directions. Trunks giggled. 

"Dad was brave, too," Gohan continued quietly. "He wasn't afraid of anything." 

"Why is he dead?" 

The tears began to flow again, and the memories came back . . . 

_"I'm sorry, honey . . ." Gohan's mother sobbed, tears streaking her face. "I'm so sorry . . ." _

_Gohan__ looked, horrified, at the pallet on which his father lay, eyes closed, expression peaceful for the first time since the virus had begun to attack his heart. If it weren't for the undeniable fact that no life energy emanated from him, Goku could almost pass for being asleep. _

_"No," Gohan whispered brokenly. He didn't even notice when his mother and grandfather left the room, both in tears. Gohan could hear someone crying out in anguish, and it took him a minute that the noise was coming from him. "Daddy . . ." _

_He walked slowly to the bed, his vision blurring. "How could you die like this, Daddy? You're a fighter! You weren't supposed to let a heart virus kill you," Gohan reached out and took his father's hand, which was slowly growing cold. "I still need you." _

_No one was watching. Gohan crawled into bed beside his father like he used to do when he was little, when he'd had nightmares. With tears rolling down his cheeks, Gohan moved Goku's arm and placed it around himself, resting his head on his father's chest. If Gohan closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that Goku was alive and hugging him, just like in the old days . . . _

"Gohan-san? Gohan-san, you're hurting me!" 

Gohan jumped, realizing he was holding Trunks tightly, and he let him go. "Sorry, Trunks. I didn't mean to hurt you. I was thinking about Dad, that's all. He died of a disease, which means he was sick. He didn't have a chance . . . it wasn't fair." 

Trunks looked up at him, frowning in a way that reminded Gohan of Vegeta. The tiny boy lifted a hand and wiped Gohan's tears away with a chubby finger. "I'm sorry you're sad, Gohan-san," then he pointed to a different headstone. "Who's that?" 

Gohan didn't even have to read the name, he was so familiar with them. "Yamucha. He was your mother's friend, and a warrior like my dad. He was really nice, and he played with me sometimes. He used to take care of you, before he died." 

"How?" 

"He was fighting. He died bravely." 

_"Yamucha? O no, Yamucha!" Bulma's hand flew to her mouth as Gohan came to her door, the fallen warrior on his back. Piccolo was behind him, carrying the battered and bloodied remains of Muten Rôshi. _

_Gohan__ swallowed the lump in his throat and set Yamucha down at Bulma's feet. Bulma knelt and gently touched the scarred warrior's face, closing his pain-filled eyes. "Poor Yamucha," tears cascaded from Bulma's blue eyes as she got a washcloth from the kitchen and used it to clean the blood off Yamucha's face. "He deserved better than this." _

_"The dark-haired one killed him," Piccolo announced dully. "Put a foot right through his chest." _

_"Stop," Bulma commanded angrily. "I don't want to hear it," she brushed the tears from her cheeks. "He never should have fought . . . he knew he couldn't win." _

_"He knew, but he wanted to try," Piccolo replied. "So did Rôshi -- he didn't last more than three seconds, but he fought anyway." _

_Bulma's__ gaze came to rest on Muten Rôshi's mutilated corpse, and she closed her eyes and ran inside, where Gohan could hear the sounds of her being sick to her stomach. _

_Gohan__ sat between the bodies, holding back the tears as best he could. "Yamucha tried to save me," he whispered. "The androids were going to kill me, but when Yamucha blocked the kick and died, the android laughed at me. He said anyone who needed to be protected by that weakling didn't deserve his time. I was too weak to be bothered with . . ." _

_Piccolo put a hand on his shoulder. "You aren't weak -- you're a child. There's a difference. No matter how strong you get, you'll always be susceptible to fear until you are older. It wasn't your fault." _

_Gohan__ shuddered, and he turned away from the bodies of his friends. "I'll avenge them. I promise." _

_"I know you will," Piccolo wasn't able to muster up an encouraging smile this time. "Each time someone dies, the fire inside you burns hotter. One day you will be strong enough." _

_"Why does someone have to die for me to get stronger?" Gohan used the abandoned washcloth and cleaned what was left of Rôshi's face, trying to force down the bitter taste in his mouth and the twisting in his stomach. "Sometimes I hate being Saiyajin." _

_"It isn't right, Gohan," Piccolo agreed. "But we who live must fight for them." _

_The boy looked again at his friends, filing away the pain and the hurt to use in a later battle. "I'll make sure you didn't die for nothing, Yamucha, Muten Rôshi," he whispered. "None of us will forget you." _

"This one is for Muten Rôshi," Gohan explained, swallowing hard. "He died the same day as Yamucha. He was my Dad's teacher, and he was really funny." 

Trunks' expression grew more serious as the minutes ticked by. "Did you see them die?" 

Gohan squeezed shut his eyes to keep the images from his mind. "Yes, Trunks. I saw them die." 

"Was it bad?" 

"Yes." 

The little boy put his arms around Gohan's neck and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry I made you sad. We can stop, if you want." 

"No," Gohan's black eyes burned with a cold fire, and there was a set to his jaw that belonged on a much older face. "We can't forget them, Trunks. You need to know about them. All of them," he pointed to two gravestones, which were closer together than the rest of them were. "These two belong to Tenshinhan and Chaozu." 

"Did they die fighting?" 

A bitter smile creased Gohan's features. "One of them did." 

_"You're too late!" Chaozu cried, kneeling in the dust and blood in the street. "She killed him. She punched him right. . . right through the stomach . . ." _

_Gohan__ pressed his face into Piccolo's shirt, and his friend placed a hand on the back of his head protectively. Though he had already seen his share of death, Gohan was still overcome with horror and nausea each time it happened. _

_Chaozu__ was in hysterics, his high-pitched voice shaking uncontrollably. Gohan finally forced himself to turn around, and he felt Piccolo's hands grip his shoulders in a strengthening embrace. Tenshinhan lay sprawled in the road, crumbled asphalt around him and covering his body, his clothing ripped and torn. A large, bloody hole marked where his abdomen had been. His eyes were open, his face twisted in a horrible grimace of pain and anger, his mouth forming a silent scream. Gohan had to fight not to throw up, and Piccolo's hands tightened on his shoulders. _

_"Ten..shinhan..." Chaozu wailed, his tiny hands doing their best to wipe the blood from his best friend's face. "He didn't have to die like this. I told him not to fight, but he told me he had to, for the . . . for the children . . ." _

_Vegeta__ spoke, his voice bleak and bitter. "He died a warrior's death. You may be proud of your friend." _

_"Is that all you can say?" Chaozu demanded, looking up at them. Tears were streaming from his eyes, the expression of anguish seeming out of place on his childlike, clown-painted face. "Tenshinhan believed in me when the rest of you thought I was a joke! How can I live without him?" _

_"Help us fight them," Piccolo offered, anger thickening his tone until it almost frightened Gohan. _

_Chaozu__ shook his head violently. "I wouldn't even be able to rip their clothes. I'd die without doing any good," he clenched his teeth defiantly. "I want to be with Tenshinhan. Leave me alone." _

_Vegeta's__ eyes widened as he realized what the small fighter was insinuating, and he stepped back. Gohan, on the other hand, pulled out from under Piccolo's grasp and fell to his knees beside Chaozu. "No! Help us fight, help make them pay for what they've done to us. Please, Chaozu!" _

_Chaozu__ glared, sobs still shaking his body. "He's my best friend. You don't understand!" he shut his eyes tightly, and suddenly a blue glow surrounded him. He threw himself on Tenshinhan's body, hugging him. "I'm coming, Tenshinhan," he called desperately. "Wait for me!" _

_The force from Chaozu's self-destruction flung Vegeta, Gohan, and Piccolo backwards. "NO!!" Gohan screamed, tears pouring down his face as he struggled to his feet and ran to the spot on the street. Only a pool of blood and a few tatters of clothing remained to mark the place where the two warriors had lain. "You didn't have to do that," he wiped his eyes in a vicious gesture. "You could have fought with us!" _

_Piccolo pulled Gohan to him, holding him to his chest as the small boy wept, sobbing until there was no feeling left in his body or mind. _

"Their graves are empty," Gohan told him. "There was nothing left of them." 

Trunks looked up at him, and his crystal blue eyes were filling with tears. "That's awful," the little boy whispered. "How come you can think about that without dying, too?" 

"I don't know, Trunks," Gohan replied honestly, hugging the boy and rocking him back and forth, letting him cry. "I'm sorry for telling you all this. I really should have waited until you're older." 

"No," though his voice was little more than a whisper, it was heavy with conviction. "I want to know. Tell me the others." 

Gohan had to wait a minute, composing himself and letting Trunks get all his tears out. Finally, he ran his fingers over the third-to-last grave. "This," he closed his eyes against the pain. "This is Kuririn. My Dad's best friend, and one of mine, too. He loved you, and you always laughed at everything he said. He was always trying to help people, no matter what the situation was. He was always optimistic, making jokes about everything. And he never gave up." 

_"Help me!" the tiny voice called from the ruins of a building below. "Somebody . . . Mama . . . Papa! Somebody!" _

_Kuririn__ swore, and he stopped in mid-flight. "There's a kid down there, Gohan!" his face twisted in hate. "Those monsters, leaving kids to die in the wreckage! Wait here," the bald fighter dove for the ground. "I'm coming, don't worry!" _

_Gohan__ waited indecisively for a few seconds, then tore off after him. "Kuririn, wait for me!" _

_The warrior was throwing huge chunks of concrete aside, all the while shouting words of encouragement to the child still buried in the rubble. At last, a tiny, blood-covered hand reached out from the cement. Kuririn gave a shout of joy and grasped it, and the small fingers closed over his. From beneath the stone and metal, Gohan could hear the little girl sobbing with relief, and he rushed to help Kuririn pull her out. _

_The child was about four years old, wearing a tattered blue dress and clutching a raggedy doll to her chest. Her hair was tangled, the ribbons crumpled, and she threw herself at Kuririn, holding his shirt tightly in her small fists. "Thank you sir," she said over and over, "Thank you . . ." _

_Kuririn__ patted her head, though Gohan could see his eyes burning with anger at the androids for causing a child this much pain. "Don't worry, sweetheart, we'll find your Mommy and Daddy for you." _

_"You little worm." _

_The three of them gasped, startled, and they looked up to see the black-haired android standing on a broken building, next to his blonde-haired companion. "How dare you interfere with my little games? I had a bet going with my sister as to how long that brat would last in there. Now you've ruined it!" _

_Kuririn__ leapt to his feet, still holding the little girl, who burst into tears. "How dare I?" he repeated incredulously. Gohan had never heard him this outraged before. "You are a monster! You're going to pay for what you've done!" _

_The android snorted. "That ought to be interesting. I'd lay odds on that," without warning he raised a hand and fired off a blast in Kuririn's direction. Before Kuririn could move, the beam of destructive energy lanced out and struck the little girl. She managed a short, pain-filled scream before the life left her. _

_Kuririn__ set the tiny body gently on the ground, and he brushed the strands of hair off her face. "I hate you," he whispered hoarsely, and his head snapped up. Tears glittered in his eyes. "How can you kill children?" he demanded, shouting at the top of his lungs. "That is evil!" _

_Both androids looked at each other, amused. "If you like the brat so much, you can join her," the female android snorted, then both of them raised their index fingers and pointed. Kuririn barely had a chance to make a sound. _

"I had to watch them both die," Gohan could feel the angst of the moment all over again, and he didn't even try to stop the tears. "And the androids just left me there." 

Trunks buried his face in Gohan's shirt, and his small body shook uncontrollably. "That's just like me," his voice was so distraught it was hard to make out his words. "She was just like me . . ." his tears soaked through Gohan's shirt, and Gohan just held him close, not saying a word. Trunks drew in his breath in a long, shuddering sigh, then he half stood up in Gohan's lap and pressed his face into the older boy's shoulder. "It could've been . . . it could've been m-me . . ." 

"I will never let that happen to you," Gohan declared, and though his voice was ragged from crying, it still made Trunks look up. "I couldn't save that little girl, and I'm never going to let that kind of thing happen again." 

It was a long time before Trunks was able to ask to whom the next grave belonged, and even longer before Gohan could find the strength to reply. "That's Pic...Piccolo. My best friend, and my teacher, too." 

_Gohan__ stared at the freshly-dug hole in the ground, unwilling to place his friend in there. As long as Piccolo remained unburied, as long as Gohan could see him, then he wasn't really dead . . . _

_But that was silly. Gohan swallowed the bile that rose up in his throat, and he picked up Piccolo's still form from where it lay in the grass, staring into the lifeless eyes once more. A sob caught in his throat, and Gohan flung his arms around Piccolo's shoulders in a final, tear-filled embrace before laying him in the grave. He gripped the cold hand in his, half-expecting the stiff fingers to squeeze his in return, waiting for the eyes to blink, the figure to sit up. _

_When after a few minutes none of these things happened, Gohan released Piccolo's hand, letting it fall back to the Nameksejin's side. Closing his eyes against the pain, Gohan picked up a handful of earth and flung it over Piccolo's motionless body. This act of closure brought the finality of the situation to full bear; Piccolo was gone, never to return. Gohan would never hear his gruff voice again, never feel the rough hand squeeze his shoulder, or ruffle his hair in Piccolo's version of a hug. Gohan burst into tears, and with each scattering of soil that was tossed into the grave, it felt like he was ripping pieces of his own heart and using them to fill the empty space. _

_Handful by handful, Gohan watched as his best friend in the universe disappeared beneath the earth until he could see him no more. _

This time it was Trunks who held Gohan, putting his arms as far around his friend's shoulders as they would go, trying to comfort him as the older boy's body convulsed with the force of his tears. Gohan remembered the heartache he had felt when Piccolo hadn't returned his hug -- how, even though he knew it wouldn't happen, he had let his heart dare to hope anyway. 

Finally Gohan regained at least partial control of himself, and he tried to dry his tears on his already-soaking sleeve. "One left, Trunks," he announced quietly, his throat rasping. 

"Who's that?" Trunks shrank back against Gohan's side. 

"Vegeta," Gohan whispered, "Your father." 

Trunks gasped, and for a few seconds there was silence as the little boy fought with himself to keep control of his emotions. At last he was able to speak, though his voice was nearly inaudible. "What happened?" 

_"There is no way I'm letting you come," Vegeta snapped, scowling at Gohan, who looked up at him with pleading eyes. "You aren't strong enough, and I wouldn't be able to protect you the whole time. Do you know how I'd feel having to watch you die?" _

_Gohan__ sniffled, nodding. He wiped his eyes, leaving a dirty streak across his forehead. "I understand, Vegeta-san, but I just got done burying Piccolo five minutes ago. I have to fight the androids . . . I have to! They've taken Piccolo-san, sir, and Kuririn, and the others . . . and I can't let them get away with that. Please!" _

_Vegeta__ stared at him in silence for a second, marking the fiery determination smouldering in the boy's tear-filled eyes. Finally he sighed gustily. "Fine, you can come. But you have to promise to leave when I tell you to." _

_A smile broke out upon Gohan's face. "Thank you, sir!" _

_"Promise!" Vegeta repeated forcefully, shaking Gohan's shoulder roughly. _

_"I promise," Gohan nodded dutifully. _

_Vegeta's__ glare faded in intensity, and he jerked his chin over his shoulder. "Come on. According to the news they just attacked a place called __Black__Town__. __If we leave now, we should catch them. They can't have gone far." _

_"Yes, sir," Gohan responded readily. _

_It turned out that the Prince of Saiyajins was correct in his surmise; the androids were indeed still at __Black__Town__, the black-haired boy destroying buildings and the blonde girl watching him from the curb, looking bored out of her skull. Vegeta and Gohan landed in the middle of the street, making both androids jump. _

_"Well, well, look who's here," the boy sneered, eyeing the two warriors like pieces of meat that had been out of the fridge too long and had begun to mold. "The last of your kind . . . and pathetic ones at that, by the looks of it. It's your turn to commit suicide today, is it?" _

_Vegeta__ held out an arm in front of Gohan, warning him to stay back for the time being. "It's about time you two metal monsters met your doom," he spat, "You've done enough killing for one lifetime." _

_The girl raised her eyebrows and got to her feet. "Really? According to my bio on you, you've killed thoudands more than we have." _

_"That's right," Vegeta snarled, and Gohan had to force himself not to take a step backwards in terror. The androids didn't know Vegeta very well if they weren't frightened . . . "And you two will be just another name on the list." _

_The boy found this so amusing that when he burst out laughing he had to sit down, holding his sides as he roared with mirth. "By far the best death speech yet," he gasped for breath, tears running down his cheeks. "I might let you die quickly, as a reward for giving me such a laugh!" _

_Vegeta__ growled, then he leapt at the android, powering up a punch that sent the startled robot flying. "DIE!" he shouted, sending blast after blast at his opponent before he could stand. _

_Unfortunately, this angered the android's sister, and she launched an attack at Vegeta. "No, youdie," she corrected, smashing the Saiyajin in the jaw with her fist and grinning as he crashed into a building. _

_Gohan__ could only watch in horror as Vegeta remained motionless, and images of Piccolo, Kuririn, and the others flashed through his mind. He'd been helpless then, bound by terror, unable to do anything. He wasn't going to let that happen this time! _

_The pain and unfairness of all those deaths surged through him, and Gohan screamed in rage as the power crackled through his veins. Both androids were clearly startled, but Gohan barely noticed. His entire body burned as though he was standing in the middle of a bonfire, then suddenly something snapped, and his unruly black hair turned to gold, his eyes flickering emerald. _

_"You can't do this!" Gohan flew at the girl, knocking her backwards with a punch to the head. Instead of letting her fall, Gohan caught her by the hair and kneed her in the gut. "You can't just kill all my friends and think you can get away with it!" _

_"Gohan, be careful!" Vegeta shouted at him, and Gohan glanced over to see the Saiyajin struggling to his feet, blood oozing from several gashes all over his body. The girl used this momentary distraction to free herself from Gohan's grip, and she kicked him in the chest, causing the boy to fly through the air towards the wreckage of a building. _

_"We can, and we will," her brother countered, and the two androids looked at each other, then nodded. They flew behind Gohan to intercept his course, their fists ready for a double power-punch. _

_"NO!!" in a split-second, Vegeta caught Gohan in his arms and flung the boy away. As Gohan crashed to the ground he saw Vegeta tense as the androids made contact, then their fists emerged through his back. Gohan felt the blow as if it had happened to him, and he stumbled forward, aware that he had reverted back from his Super Saiyajin form. _

_The androids stepped back and watched patiently as Gohan crawled to Vegeta's side. "He's not going to make it," the boy remarked, laughingly, then waved in Gohan's direction. "Have fun dragging his carcass home, kid," the two androids laughed together, then flew off. _

_The warrior's face was contorted with pain, his black eyes glassy. He hadn't heard the androids leave. "Get out ... of here ... kid," he ordered, his ordinarily strong voice faltering. "Now ..." _

_"No," Gohan protested, sliding his hands beneath Vegeta's shoulders and lifting him partway off the ground, trying to ease his pain. "I'm not just going to leave you!" _

_Vegeta__ tried to scowl, but he broke off, gasping for breath. "You ... promised ..." _

_Gohan's__ eyes began watering, but he didn't bother to wipe them clear. "I lied," he replied, hearing his voice shaking. "The androids are gone. You . . . you saved me, Vegeta-san!" _

_"Pathetic ... isn't it," Vegeta managed a half-hearted snort, but it was cut short as he began coughing, thick red liquid leaking from his mouth. Gohan tore a strip of cloth from his sleeve and wiped Vegeta's mouth. "Beaten ... by a tin ... can ..." _

_"You aren't beaten," Gohan pleaded. "You're the strongest warrior on Earth -- you said so yourself!" _

_"Even ... I ... can be ... wrong ..." Vegeta's words were growing fainter now, punctuated more and more by gasps for breath. "Tell ... the woman ... I ... wish ... things were ... diff..erent ... and ... I'm sorry ... I could..n't ... help ... her ... raise ... the brat ..." _

_Gohan__ nodded, and Vegeta lifted a trembling, blood-covered hand and dropped it heavily on Gohan's head. "You're ... strong ... for Ka..kkar..ot's ... son ... Train ... my child ... for me ... Don't ... let him ... for..get ... about ... his father," his eyes closed, and for one awful second Gohan thought he was dead, but then the onyx eyes opened once more. "Tell him ... I lo..loved him ... Tell ... Bul..ma ... I'm ... sor..ry ... I didn't ... tell ... her," the warrior struggled to speak, and blood bubbled from his mouth as he did so. "I ... love ... her ..." _

_His head lolled sideways, and the last of his energy disappeared. _

_"No . . ." Gohan whispered, and along with the pain there was a growing emptiness filling his chest. "I'm all alone now . . ." _

The two boys clung to each other and cried, letting their tears bring healing, allowing their mutual sorrow to bind them together in a way that nothing else could do. 

Eleven years later, that same breeze blew through the field, but this time it stirred the flowers on nine graves, not eight. Like before, the figure of a boy knelt in front of one of the stones, head bent and shoulders shaking, but the hair that was tousled gently by the wind was lavender, not black. One hand lay on the top of the newest gravestone, clenching and unclenching spasmodically as its owner cried, deep sobs that rose up from the very core of his being. 

The writing on that stone was carved by a young hand, the letters somewhat shaky as though the one who had written them had been crying at the time. 

_Gohan__. __My teacher, my friend. You taught me about life, death, and love. We won't forget_. 

****** 


End file.
